As I dressed for work on the morning of June 2, 2016, my wife, Beth, informed me that she had awoken earlier with a severe migraine. A morning swim, breakfast, and medication failed to give relief, so she returned to bed to sleep it off. At 9:45 a.m., she telephoned me at work with news that she could barely move her right arm or open her right eye. I rushed home immediately.

As I drove her to the emergency room, I dreaded what awaited us. Our experiences with hospitals were often disheartening and in some cases appalling. By the time we arrived, paralysis had spread to her right leg and she could not walk without help. I wrapped my arm around her waist and together, we hobbled into the emergency room.

Accustomed to six-hour waits in emergency rooms, my discomfort diminished when I noticed a sign that said, “Skip the Wait.” An attendant pushing a wheelchair hurried in our direction. We moved aside assuming that she intended to aid someone else. She surprised us by stopping beside Beth, then lowered an arm on one side of the wheelchair and helped her into it. In no time, we were in a treatment room and no one had even asked for ID or proof of insurance. Apparently, they had figured out that in emergencies, people skip reading the forms and go right to signing at the X.

As specialists conducted neurological evaluations, CT scans, x-rays, EKGs and recorded vital signs, I could not help but marvel at how courteous, compassionate and informative everyone was. A screen saver on a nearby computer monitor gave a clue about why. Every twenty seconds a new slide touted the benefits of Humankindness. I noticed that the term was trademarked.

I wrote my first book, Detour from Normal, to expose the horrifying practices of some of the facilities who admitted me to during my ordeal and press for better patient treatment. A sizable portion of Part 4 implores medical and mental health professionals to make reforms and includes the following statements.

“View each patient as your spouse, mother, father, or sibling and ask yourself what course of action you would take if that were the case.”

“If you really want to help patients, you have to interact with them on a personal level.”

“We are people just like you, and you can make such a difference in our lives by getting to know us and accepting us in our compromised state.”

“I especially hope that this information will lead to more effective treatment and compassionate care by medical and mental health professionals.”

Now, I was seeing my vision in action. Medical professionals bent over backwards to make sure that we weren’t afraid and understood all of our options, detailing the benefits and side effects of medications and giving us informed choices for Beth’s treatment plan. Throughout the day, the kind treatment continued. A chaplain even offered to contact our church and put in a prayer request.

While Beth underwent a contrast CT scan, I grabbed a hasty lunch at the café near the emergency room, appropriately named Café Kindness. While eating, I wondered if by chance some of the nearly 50,000 copies of Detour from Normal in circulation had made it to key administrators and sparked a revolution in hospital culture. Perhaps I really had made a difference in patient treatment after all.

In any case, the experience moved me to tears. It thrilled me for Beth’s sake that things had turned around, but I wished that it had been like this for me back in 2011 during my ordeal. It would have saved me years of piecing my life back together. On the other hand, perhaps my struggle and determination to write about it was necessary to open eyes and find a better way.

Whether that is true or not, I am optimistic that I each of us can have an impact. If you know any medical or mental health professionals, please recommend Detour from Normal to them and continue to spread the word. In a huge and growing number of Amazon reader reviews the message is clear: it should be required reading for all medical and mental health professionals.

Kudos to you, Chandler Regional Medical Center, for getting it right. I hope that you are but one of many institutions making sweeping changes for the benefit of patients, having found that in every situation from preemie to retiree, kindness is the greatest healer.

Although doctors never found a definitive cause of Beth’s stroke symptoms, the quick response, and expert and compassionate care by the emergency room, stroke, and telemetry units resulted in a rapid recovery. Beth returned home to our relieved family on June 4, 2016. Although she is not yet her energetic former self, I have no doubt that she soon will be.